It was late morning when Arran awoke. He had slept longer than usual, and it took his mind some moments to fully shake off the drowsiness of a long night's sleep.
His dreams had been vivid that night, filled with shreds of the Shadow spell he had studied so assiduously the previous day. In his dreams, using the spell had come easily, and he had used it to blur not just spoons but entire castles and even mountains.
Yet the excitement he had felt on mastering the spell now caused him some disappointment when he awoke and realized none of it had been real.
Still, even if the memory was false, the motivation it gave him was entirely real. He let out a final deep yawn, then got out of bed, already eager to continue his studies.
He found the house empty, and after a short search, he discovered that Oraia was sitting in the garden, drinking a cup of tea while looking through some scrolls.
